"We make a good team," Riley agreed. "Erin does most of the heavy lifting. She's got the best palate in the family—can describe tasting notes like my father, and Bryson is just giddy over it.”
"Riley's being modest. She's the one who turned our social media from sleepy to spectacular." Erin moved back behind the bar and pulled out three glasses. "But enough about work. Let's have a proper welcome toast."
She poured a chardonnay that gleamed golden in the afternoon light, passing glasses across the bar. "To new beginnings. For all of us."
They clinked glasses, and Emery felt some of the tension she'd been carrying ease. The wine was crisp and bright with notes of apple and a hint of vanilla oak.
"This is beautiful," Emery said.
"Our 2021 vintage. One of Bryson's best.” Erin leaned against the bar. "So, Riley says you're interviewing with the local reporter next week?"
"Unfortunately." Emery set down her glass. "I'm terrified."
"Don't be." Riley pulled out her tablet. "I've been working on talking points and a full media strategy. The key is to control the narrative before it controls you."
They spent the next hour going over Riley's plan—how to address the Pemberton scandal directly without being defensive, how to highlight her qualifications and the authentication program's potential, how to position her return to Stone Bridge as intentional rather than desperate.
"The interviewer, Sarah Martinez, is fair but thorough," Riley explained. "She'll ask hard questions, but if you're honest and confident, she'll give you a fair shake."
"What if she brings up Harold's accusations specifically?"
"You acknowledge them, explain your side briefly, and pivot to the future." Riley tapped her screen. "Something like: 'What happened at Pemberton's was devastating, but it also taught me valuable lessons about due diligence and documentation. Those lessons are exactly what make me uniquely qualified to guide Stone Bridge Winery into the premium markets."
"Turning a negative into a positive," Erin said approvingly. "I like it."
The bell above the door chimed, and Grant Callahan walked in carrying a case of wine under each arm. He looked better than the last time Emery had seen him—the dark circles under his eyes had faded, and there was more color in his face—but the weight of recent events still showed in the set of his shoulders.
"Ladies," he greeted them, setting the cases on the bar. "Special order for the Hendersons. They're hosting some anniversary party tomorrow."
“Thanks for giving us a hand with this. I’ll get them packaged up," Erin said, already moving toward the storage room.
Grant turned to Emery, extending his hand. "Good to see you again. Heard you'd joined the Boone operation."
"News travels fast."
"Small town." His smile was wry. "Though, I imagine David Callaway's will reading today has the whole valley buzzing."
Riley looked up sharply. "How did you hear about that?"
"Bryson texted me about an hour ago. Said Gabe told him some interesting things came up." Grant accepted the glass of wine Erin poured for him when she returned. "Something about a third heir?"
Riley set down her tablet. "Gabe said what now?”
"According to Bryson, David's will specifically states that he had another child before his marriage and that this person should be found within three months and given their share of the inheritance." Grant's expression was thoughtful. "Bryson said Gabe was shaken by the fact that David left him his grandfather’s gun collection, which was extensive. I guess Gabe wants nothing to do with that. Even though the gun that was used to murder EJ Callaway, Jasper’s brother, was found and should still be locked up somewhere in evidence, that whole collection is tainted for Gabe. But what really rattled Gabe was the notion that his mom once dated David.”
The room went still.
“Gabe couldn’t possibly be a third heir, could he?” Riley asked carefully. “His parents moved before he was born.”
“Interestingly enough, Gabe wasn't supposed to be in the room for that part—they asked him to leave after presenting him with his grandfather's guns—but he heard enough and yeah, his folks moved about a year before he was born, so no, the timing isn’t right, but his folks did return a few times and the whole thing is just freaking him out. It’s bringing up too much history for the man, which I understand.” Grant took a sip of wine. “I ran into Mom early today, and all it took was a glance, and I’m down that rabbit hole.”
“She could go back to jail if she has any contact with any of us.” Erin set down her glass and tightened her ponytail.
“She didn’t speak to me,” Grant said. “She just paused, stared, and then scurried off into the salon. But not my point. Gabe carries the burden of what his granddad did. Somethingthat I worry about for my kids. For Erin's kids.” He reached across the table and grabbed Erin’s hand. “It’s a lot of weight to have on your shoulders.”
“It is,” Riley agreed. “But we’re not going to let those kids, or each other, do any of this alone.”
Emery lifted her wine and stared into the rich, buttery liquid. An insurance scam had ruined her father’s reputation. He never denied the accusation. At least, not loudly. All he’d said was that there were things yet to be revealed, and that in time, she’d understand.
